Pow-Wow at Thomas Square

By DELAINA THOMAS

Honolulu

 

I walk to the park
drummers sit in a circle under a white tent
they have drifted this far way on pacific waves
long feathers tucked behind their ears
they sweat in soft fringed hides
their faces lean and dark

I walk past a stall of frybread and smoked meat
to a table of pawn jewelry
a hunk of turquoise dappled with green
is set in a cuff of old silver engraved
with swastikas and stars
I wonder if it was gambled away 
I say to no one in particular
it would look nice on you I hear and look up
at the vendor older and handsome 
two bear claws at his collarbone

I don’t want to wear someone else’s heartache 
I have enough of my own I say 
he asks what tribe I am
my people are from an island I’ve never been to 
I say as I walk away

 

Delaina Thomas born and raised in Hawaiʻi, is a lifelong activist of Asian descent. Her writing has focused on two oppressed matriarchal cultures: the Hawaiian and the Uchinanchu. She researches and cultivates endangered endemic Hawaiian plants. Delaina is a certified teacher of Transcendental Meditation and has an MFA in creative writing from UC Irvine. Her work has appeared in Hawaiʻi Review, The Hudson Review, The Missouri Review, The Asian Pacific American Journal, Bamboo Ridge, and other publications.

[Purchase Issue 20 here.]

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Pow-Wow at Thomas Square

Related Posts

October 2026 Poetry Feature: David Barber and David Lehman

DAVID BARBER
Sometimes a marvel of meteorology, the makings of a hypothesis. / Sometimes historical, sometimes supernatural, sometimes hearsay – / Sometimes a little bird tells someone it’s raining sprats on the isthmus. / Not just fish – sometimes showers of frogs, the odd lizard or elver.

Two Poems by Dalia Taha, translated by Sara Elkamel

DALIA TAHA
All we own are our lips / and the pupils of our eyes—the car / will plow into all of this. / And still, life is far too complex / for words like victory or defeat. // Life is Salma on the balcony / moving plants to bigger pots, in her eyes / the settlement’s lights. 

Headshot of Brionne Janae

September 2026 Poetry Feature

BRIONNE JANAE
did you keep your mind? / you got to walk it for yourself / and on returning what state did you find it in? / as in what state were you in? / were you where you left yourself? / and who was left? / was anyone left? / and how sure were you that you could reach them?